


Go Down

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-MTMTE, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Sequel toA Spoonful of Sugar. Ambulon and Deadlock reunite.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few things have changed to Ambulon's canon since I wrote ASoS, including the fact Ambulon's name was retconned to always having been his name. However, for the sake of consistency, this fic follows the canon of its predecessor. Ambulon's name has always been Ambulon, but beyond that, here he was just a regular Decepticon for a while before becoming a Combiner. Could still be an MTO, though.
> 
> I would definitely advise reading the first fic before continuing with this one.
> 
> Please pardon any grammatical errors. Third fic in one day! Hot damn, I gotta lay down. Suffice to say, the juice in the tank has fully run dry, and I might have missed some errors while proofreading.
> 
> Also, a fuckton of thanks for everyone who gave ASoS kudos enough to reach 122. Shucks, y'all!

The Regalia was a secret, cloaked Decepticon hub-station in an otherwise empty galaxy. 

It was in a so-called "dead zone," smackdab in the middle between the nearest civilizations. A place where Decepticons could refuel and/or repair damages to their ships. To access Regalia, one had to open a specific channel and broadcast a series of codes. If you passed, a hole in the invisibility cloak would part and remain open for exactly ten minutes to allow passage inside. Rarely ever longer, unless the ship was a sizeable larger than ordinary.

If you failed, most likely you were shot down in under a minute without ever seeing it coming.

Regalia was not only for repairs and refueling, but relaxation and rest. It even had two bars, one of which was also a club.

While the Regalia had a fairly impressive medical staff, recently four doctors had been executed upon suspicion of being Autobot spies. Simple suspicion, however, with no evidence to back up the accusations. Even the CMO, who had no idea about any possible outside Autobot connections, was put to death. Charged with insubordination for not having better control over his crew, and harboring possible traitors. Regalia couldn't risk outside exposure to the enemy, and it was a cutthroat time in the war.

Ambulon honestly hated it. 

The paranoia, the backstabbing, the needless deaths of what might have been innocents accused of treason due to fear mongering or some Decepticon jackass sociopath wanting to start trouble. He'd seen too many needless deaths in his short career as a Decepticon medic. Too many that could have been avoided or prevented, but due to negligence, apathy, and/or especially personal vendetta, were lost.

A fellow doctor once told Ambulon that being a medic is not unlike being a soldier. You both see your fair amount of deaths and tragedy. It can make or break you. Turn you cold and hard as moon-stone, or wear you down and thin you out like tissue paper. Ambulon didn't like to think he was being worn down, so to speak, but just being sympathetic. Maybe more than he ought or should be, since there'd been days where he dared entertain the notion of defecting.

To the Autobots? Ambulon wasn't so sure they were any better. According to propaganda, they were worse. Their most famous medic was Ratchet the Hatchet, who tortured and experimented on Decepticon POWs. Even his fellow Autobots. All in the name of "science." Other rumors said he also threw medical instruments at his patients if they got on his nerves. Whether all this scuttlebutt was true or not, Ambulon never wanted to meet the guy.

But what could you do? Speaking up might get you a hole in the head. So Ambulon said nothing, kept his mouth shut and repulsion hidden when he heard about the Regalia incident. He and his teammates had been dispatched to the space station two weeks ago as temporary staff until a new CMO was hired. The process was said to be grueling and long, which meant Ambulon could be on Regalia for quite a while.

Ambulon was thankful for one thing about being stationed out in the middle of nowhere. It was in the middle of nowhere. Most who docked just needed refueling. They never stayed too long. It wasn't until two days ago when a Decepticon ship came to port with a boisterous, large crew of MTOs after their hull had been breached in multiple places by an Autobot fleet. A couple dead, but only a few injured, and after an hour of minor repairs, Ambulon and the medical staff were empty-handed.

Ambulon spent two hours just cleaning equipment, checking and rechecking supplies, and even reading a datazine until his actual break came up. Bored out of his cranial chamber, he left to wander the station. He'd yet to visit the entire hub, or at least places accessible to the public and temp staff. Ambulon was sure he'd find nothing amazing, but it was better than sitting in the medbay doing jack-all and twiddling his thumbs.

Ten minutes after a brisk stroll, Ambulon decided to test his access card. The sixth floor was restricted to personnel only. He slid his card in the elevator panel and pressed the red button (one of six) leading to aforementioned floor. To his surprise, he was granted access, the button flashing green before spitting out his card and going up.

Ambulon hesitated at the open lift doors. The floor was a long corridor that turned off about ten feet ahead. He could hear loud thumping of muffled noises. The moment he stepped out, the elevator closed and went back down, and for a minute Ambulon did just stand there, doing jack-all and twiddling his thumbs.

What caught his attention, however, was the wall made of glass. Or something like glass. It ran down the length of the corridor that ended into a large conference room. Ambulon looked out the glass, surprised; down below he could see the entire dance floor and bar of the club. The Flurry, as it was called; he'd been there once, and decided he didn't like it. The rumbling noises now made sense, though.

Members of the visiting Decepticon crew had filled the club. The fullest he'd seen it in two weeks. Usually it was dead. They danced, they drank, they mingled, two barfed in a corner. Strobe lights flashed above their heads and waving hands. A DJ cheered them on, spinning bass heavy beats. Regalia's two bartenders overwhelmed and struggling to keep up with all the orders.

And though Ambulon had been standing there for a few minutes now, no one seemed to notice him. A couple mechs had looked up at the mirror, even directly at him, but they didn't seem to _see_ him. After scanning the glass, Ambulon realized it was a one-way mirror; he could see out, but they couldn't see in.

"Well, well, well. It seems the rumors are true."

Ambulon felt the coldest chill run down his backstrut. Cold enough to freeze his boots to the ground. His spark trembled. 

He recognized that voice.

Dark, low, dangerous, and deadly playful. Hard to forget once you heard it. Harder more once you realized who it belonged to.

Ambulon gulped, finally managing to turn and face the elevator. Though he knew it was Deadlock standing there, he was still surprised. The infamous Decepticon soldier was leaning against the wall, arms folded, a toothy grin on his dark faceplates.

"Uh... I was just..." Ambulon pointed out the window. His optics darted back and forth. "I'm... lost?"

"I think you're right where you need to be," Deadlock smirked. He stood up straight. Ambulon twitched, instinctively inching away. "Ambulon. The medic, right?"

Ambulon cursed internally. Deadlock _remembered_ him.

"Yeah," Deadlock chuckled, as if he knew what Ambulon was thinking, what he was fearing, his optics glowing a wicked yellow, "I remember you."

"I remember you... too..." Ambulon cleared his vocalizer. "Deadlock. How could I... Um, so. What are you doing here?" Change the subject, hope Deadlock followed. Didn't think about how Ambulon had strapped him down and fixed him up. Deadlock would only remember the tying down part, the medic was sure.

Deadlock, however, gave him an unimpressed look.

"Right," Ambulon said dryly, "stupid question." Deadlock hadn't been part of the crew downstairs. When had he snuck in? Why was Ambulon still asking stupid questions?

Deadlock smiled again. Rosy and soft, like a gutted animal bleeding everywhere. "Gotta confess. It's not you so much I remember, but more your mouth and channel around my unit, sucking me dry."

Ambulon winced. "It... You agreed, so I was only--"

"Would it be too sentimental if I said I missed them?"

Ambulon blinked. "Missed them?"

"Your mouth and channel," Deadlock said, gesturing to his crotch, "around my unit."

Ambulon's optics flickered. "Ah... No. I'm... flattered? I mean, considering I don't think I'm... very good at interfacing," he grumbled.

Deadlock stepped forward. The tense air shifted. Ambulon moved back a foot. "I especially liked your aftercare treatment," he sneered. Placed a hand to his spark and exvented. "Never felt so pampered in my life."

"Again, you're welcome," Ambulon said. He wished the glass wasn't a one-way mirror. He wished someone saw them and came rushing in to distract Deadlock. Ask for an autograph or something.

"You're movin' kinda stiff there, Ambulon," Deadlock noticed, eyeing Ambulon head to toe. "Need a doc, doc?"

"I'm as equally awkward with interfacing as I am socializing," Ambulon coughed, "forgive me."

"What're you afraid of?" Deadlock asked, chuckling. What a dick move. "Hey, I'm not here to hurt or kill ya. I promise." He raised his hands innocently. "In fact, I haven't killed anyone in over a wee... wait." He thought a moment, pursing his lips. "Scrap. Damn. Nevermind."

"Well, whatever you're doing, I don't want to bother you."

"No bothering. None at all." Deadlock laughed, all smiles again. "Relax. I spotted you on your way up here and wanted to come say hello to an old pal. That's all."

"Hello," Ambulon said, and Deadlock guffawed.

"'Kay, I'm lyin'," Deadlock mused. "I also wanted to ask if you'd be open for another round? A proper reunion and all."

Ambulon was still nervous, but now for a very different reason. Mostly because... "Really?" Ambulon pointed at his face, one part confused, one part awkward. " _Me_?"

Deadlock looked around the corridor, mock searching for anyone else. "It would seem that way." He exvented and stepped back, politely half-bowing. "But, hey. Despite what you've heard--and if you heard about _that_ , it's _very_ much true--I'm not that kinda guy. I'm not gonna force myself on you."

Ambulon was slightly surprised by that. He imagined half the people who did meet Deadlock threw themselves at his feet, begging for a chance to fuck such a big wig celebrity. The other half went running and screaming. Ambulon was neither, however; while he was still not sure what exactly about their impromptu interfacing was so great, he wasn't opposed to doing it again.

Just he'd seen snuff films. He didn't want to be in one.

Deadlock was right in front of him. A flash; blink, and you'd miss it. Ambulon gasped and reeled back, nearly tripping. Deadlock shot out a hand. Not to rip his spark right out of his chassis, but rather to catch him by the waist, lift him up and press him flush against his ridiculously warm frame. Ambulon's optics widened; he was face to face with the Decepticon warrior, a measly, frightened inch separating their noses from touching.

"I promise," Deadlock leered, tapping his fingers on Ambulon's hip. He was still holding him, and didn't appear to be letting go any time soon. "I'll make it good for you. You won't die, I mean, if that's what you're worried about." Then he reached up and booped Ambulon on the nose. "I ain't into necrophilia."

Ambulon felt the last few seconds couldn't be real. All just some feverish, lucid dream. Deadlock poked his nose. 

Not real. Hallucination.

But Deadlock's EM field was _very_ real, and it was extremely powerful. It swallowed Ambulon whole, and that arousal was instantly infectious. Ambulon shivered, but not out of fear this time. He licked his lips, and that pleased the warrior, his optics beaming. "I... Well, since no one can see us..." he murmured.

"Would you prefer people see us?" Deadlock teased, sliding one hand between Ambulon's legs. "I mean, there was a crowd when we last fragged. No necro, but I can do a little voyeurism and exhibitionism."

Ambulon's head spun. He choked on his words as Deadlock stroked his codpiece. "N-No, this is fine," he said. 

"So, we good?" Deadlock asked, cocking a browplate.

Ambulon hesitated. He nodded. Then he squawked as he was roughly shoved back and turned around. He grunted, slammed against the glass wall, cool and fogging quickly under his heat and weight. Deadlock grabbed his hands, pressing them up above his head. "Keep 'em there," he growled against the medic's audiol before running his tongue up the side of his head.

Ambulon groaned. His panels clicked open, a rush of warm air brushing against his exposed channel and unit. Ambulon gasped, optics widening, as two thick fingers pushed inside his channel, feeling around the mesh walls. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, struggling to remain quiet and still, even with the shivers running down his thighs.

"Already so wet," Deadlock chuckled. "But you're gonna need a little more to take me. But maybe you already remembered that..."

Ambulon gulped. The fingers started thrusting inside his channel, up to the knuckle. His legs twitched, occasionally trying to close around the hand before steadying again. Deadlock paused once to pinch his anterior node and roll it between his fingers. He grinned at the yelp that followed.

Lubricant coated Deadlock's fingers in a purple sheen. More ran down his thighs, to his knees. He was suddenly embarrassed, though he didn't quite know why. No one could see him, despite just how... vulnerable he felt.

Ambulon tensed as the tip of Deadlock's unit nudged between his folds. "You snap it off, I snap yer spine," Deadlock growled, grabbing the back of the medic's neck and squeezing. Not very helpful in soothing his fright, it did manage to loosen Ambulon up. He invented, wanting to look back, wanting to see the look on Deadlock's face. Know just what he was planning.

Ambulon jumped, bumping his forehead right against the glass, as Deadlock hefted up one of his legs, spreading him wider. Holding his leg up by the knee, Deadlock aligned himself again and pushed inside. Ambulon screamed, cry trailing into a pained growl between grinding teeth. Too much too quick, but Deadlock wasn't interested in slow and gentle. With a grunt, Deadlock pressed in the final inch of his unit, filling Ambulon to the brim.

Deadlock swooned at the way Ambulon's body wriggled and twitched, pained and trying quickly to adjust. "It's not so bad," he purred, "you'll see." And then he started moving, and he was right. It wasn't so bad. _This_ was much worse. The pain felt less sharp but more searing and hot and ripping.

Ambulon whimpered, dropping his chevron to the glass. He panted, open-mouthed and optics hooded. He could feel every inch of Deadlock's unit slide into him, caress his walls, threaten to tear him apart. But this wasn't the first time he'd taken Deadlock, and his system would quickly remember that. The burning pain dulled a few minutes and heavy, wet thrusts later, until there was nothing.

No, not nothing. He could feel the pleasure now. The unit grinding against deep-nestled nodes. The way it rubbed against his interior node with every slide. Deadlock withdrew halfway, stayed there a moment, then slammed back in. Ambulon gasped, jerking. His unit was hard, leaking drops of transfluid. But he couldn't touch it; Deadlock gave him an order to keep his hands above his head, and he intended to follow it.

"Yeah, yeah," Deadlock growled, laughing breathily against Ambulon's head. "How is it? You like it?" He quickened his pace, thrusts coming in faster and harder. " _Do you_?" he snarled, teeth biting down on a neck table.

Ambulon whimpered. "Y-Yes," he choked. He wasn't lying. He moved past the fear and shock to remember the carnal pleasure he'd gotten out of riding Deadlock's unit seemingly so long ago. It all came back to him in one powerful, crashing wave that threatened to burn out his spark. He closed his optics, grinding his aft down into the unit.

Deadlock hissed. "Turn around." He yanked himself free, spinning Ambulon around to face him. A whirlwind that lasted a second, and then Deadlock was seated fully inside him again. Ambulon cried out, rolling his chest in an arch against Deadlock's. Hands now held him by the waist, furiously pounding as if this was the last fuck of his life.

Ambulon opened his optics, shocked to see the look of determination on Deadlock's face. The way his optics glimmered, as if he were blushing. It was... kind of cute. Deadlock noticed him staring and quickly raised a hand, grabbed the back of Ambulon's head, and shoved his face into a smashing kiss. Like his unit, his tongue was quick to thrust inside, stroking against Ambulon's as coolant fell free between their lips, down their chins.

Still kinda cute.

Deadlock tore his mouth away. "Gonna overload soon," he grumbled.

"G-Go ahead," Ambulon moaned, "I d-don't mind. Overload i-inside me, if y-you want."

Deadlock grinned. "Actually, I don't," he said. Ambulon blinked, surprised. What did--? Then Deadlock was pulling out again, the bastard, and once more moving him like a ragdoll. This time onto his knees, and pain shot up Ambulon's legs from hitting the ground so hard. Deadlock kept one hand on the medic's head, stroking himself and admiring the expression of confusion on Ambulon's face.

It became all too clear then, what he wanted-- Ambulon couldn't move away when Deadlock shot his load on his face. He caught some in his mouth, but managed to close his optics just in time. A lot--more than last time. Ambulon squeaked, jerked close; Deadlock's unit brushed along his cheek.

"We ain't finished," Deadlock sneered, "first, clean me up."

Ambulon gulped. His shaky hands braced against Deadlock's thighs. He opened his mouth, licking up the first line of transfluid with slight hesitation. Didn't taste anything exceptional, but Ambulon... wanted more? This bloodthirsty mech was an enigma. An enigma laced up pretty and prim in bombs and grenades. More confident, and obscenely with more arousal, Ambulon continued licking the transfluid off Deadlock's unit. He could taste some of his own lubrication, and it sent little tingles to his tanks.

First up, then down, each lap slow and thorough. He finally reached the head, suckling the very edge momentarily between his lips. Deadlock groaned, digging his fingers into Ambulon's chevron. Ambulon licked very lightly at the slit, then took both head and a few extra inches into his mouth. He sucked, lips tightly sealed, tongue rubbing against the underside, until the unit was entirely clean. Maybe a little longer than necessary, but he was sure Deadlock appreciated the extra effort.

"Not bad," Deadlock smirked, "but before I let you get off, you gotta finish _me_ off." Ambulon, optics soft and lidded, shuffled obediently on his knees between Deadlock's legs, until he was looking directly up at the Decepticon warrior's leaking channel. "Get to it, doc."

Ambulon grabbed Deadlock's large thighs, lifting up an inch to press his tongue against the folds. He licked each one first. Deadlock was vibrating. Beads of lubricant hit the medic's face. His tongue in between the folds, sliding inside and lapping at the anterior node. Deadlock's thighs clenched a second or two around his head before opening and relaxing again. Ambulon continued licking, the edge of his nose nuzzling against the ceiling.

Already sporting a charge from Ambulon shining up his unit, it didn't take long before Deadlock overloaded again. Ambulon gasped, transfluid splattered across his face. He opened his mouth, swallowing a little of the sticky fluid. He suckled more off one of the folds.

Deadlock flopped back against the wall, panting. "... Heh. Just as I remembered," he chuckled, running a hand down his face. He looked at Ambulon, uneasily twitching on the floor. "Right. I'm not _that_ evil, you know."

Deadlock shoved a hand against Ambulon's chest, laying him out on the floor. Then, he was on the floor, on his knees, and Ambulon wondered if this was another of those weird hallucinations. Deadlock was actually kneeling between his legs, hoisting them up on his shoulders and going down on him. All tongue and lips, sucking and licking with a passion bordering on crazy-too-good-but-how?.

Ambulon keened, grabbing Deadlock's helm. Maybe a bad idea, but he didn't care. Deadlock continued plowing into his channel, nipping at the folds. "Mm, y-yes! Yes!" Ambulon sobbed, rolling his groin up against Deadlock's face. "Oh, Sigma, _yes_!"

Ambulon overloaded. It was nothing short of an _experience_. Divine bliss. He could see doves fly behind his optic shutters. He overloaded the hardest, longest overload in his entire life, pretty sure he was emptying approximately half of his bodily fluids right into Deadlock's _fucking mouth_. And Deadlock wasn't mad or disgusted; he was even _swallowing_ some of it.

That, and the sight of _his fluids_ on _Deadlock's_ face was enough to tip him over a second time. He came from his unit, streaking his torso in transfluid. A little hit his chin, and he was all too eager to wipe it off and lick it clean.

Deadlock sat up, relaxing against the wall. "Toldja," he chuckled, thumbing some transfluid off his cheek, "wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Ambulon laid there in a puddle of lubricant and transfluid, a trembling and literal mess. This was still a dream. Just had to be.

Ambulon smiled, crooked and weak. "Holy _shit_."


End file.
